


Colours

by That_Ginger_004



Series: Bellarke One-Shots [18]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm so sorry, Or the one where when they touch for the first time they see colour for the first time, So very very sorry, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:52:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5196380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Ginger_004/pseuds/That_Ginger_004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens like this: Clarke is walking down the street when someone bumps into her and her world explodes into colour.</p><p>In which Bellamy and Clarke are soulmates and when they touch for the first time, they see colour for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colours

It happens like this: the day is hot and grey, and her mother is waiting for her to arrive at their weekly lunch.

It happens like this: she is looking at her phone, not paying attention to the path in front of her.

It happens like this: Clarke is walking down the street when someone bumps into her and her world explodes into colour. She is first angry, then surprised, then quickly becomes angry again when the stranger - her soulmate - takes one glance at her and gaps it.

“Hey!” she yells at the man's fast retreating back (the top he’s wearing is blue. She decides that if he weren’t running away, blue would be her new favourite colour).

He glances back again and hesitates slightly. His face is freckled, and when she gets a closer she can see that his eyes are a dark brown.

“Wait,” she says, reaching for his arm.

He jerks away slightly, but doesn’t run any more, so she counts it as a mild success. She stares for a second - first at him, then at the streets around her.

“Bellamy,” he says, surprising her when he holds out his hand.

“Clarke,” she smiles, and takes his hand.

“Sorry. Panicked.” he rubs his neck sheepishly.

“It’s okay. Did you maybe want to…” she trails off.

“Coffee?” his fingers tighten on hers as though he’s now afraid to let her go, when just moments before he was running away.

She nods, and thoughts of her mother waiting for her disappear entirely.

It happens like this: one glance, one touch, and her life is changed forever

 

****

 

It happens like this: a week of coffees and caring and colours before Bellamy carefully leans down and kisses her goodnight.

“Octavia’s waiting… I should go,” he says, before leaning down and gently pressing his lips to hers.

She sighs into his mouth, and arches up into his touch. Her hand pulls on his curls, and his are warm and large on her back, holding her close, closer than is safe for her thoughts right now. It’s only when he mouths against her neck and she lets out a strangled sound that is certainly not fit for the public place in which they are that he pulls back. Her chest is heaving and both of their breaths are coming short. His cheeks turn pink, and she thinks that pink is definitely a manly colour.

It happens like this: kisses are suddenly placed on cheeks and hands and lips and necks, and hands are now constantly tangled in each other.

“God, you two are insufferable,” Clarke’s best friend Raven says upon meeting Bellamy for the first time.

Clarke just smiles and looks pointedly at the bionic limb attached to Ravens thigh (an invention of her own soulmate), before pecking Bellamy on the cheek. Just because she can. Raven groans, then goes back to tinkering with her newest toy.

It happens like this: their lives are now intertwined, and they’re dragging all of their friends along for the ride.

 

****

 

It happens like this: a murmured confession in the dead of night after a long and tiring day.

“I love you,” he breathes into their shared air in his bed.

“Say that again,” she replies, and sleepiness she had is disappearing from her body.

“I love you,” he repeats, louder this time.

She grins, and kisses him before responding with the same words.

It happens like this: they spend the rest of the week whispering those words to each other like children, until even Clarke’s mother gets sick of it at their lunch.

 

****

 

It happens like this: a forcibly casual suggestion, and then lots and lots of boxes.

“So I was thinking…” Bellamy says one morning, his head pillowed on Clarke’s stomach, his fingers wrapped around hers.

“Uh oh,” she grins, and he swats at her arm.

“Do you wanna maybe move in?” he asks, his voice suddenly quiet, insecure, as if she would even think about saying no.

She nods faster then she probably should, and doesn’t even hesitate before replying with a “yes.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and crawls up her body to kiss her.

It happens like this: that one kiss leads to another -- and, well, they don’t get any packing done that day

 

****

 

It happens like this: the sun is shining bright and golden - golden, to match the silver on the ring.

“Clarke Griffin,” she hears, and turns around to find a sight that’s never going to leave her mind.

Her breath catches in her throat, and suddenly she can’t speak.

“Will you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife?” his eyes are shining, and Clarke’s never been more thankful that she decided to walk to lunch that day.

“Yes,” she chokes out, and then they’re hugging tighter than ever, and kissing in a clash of lips and teeth and happiness.

It happens like this: planning takes over their entire life, and even though it’s hectic and chaotic, she’s never been happier.

 

****

 

It happens like this: her mother walks her down the aisle, and she’s never been happier to see someone in black and white.

“I do,” he says, and his voice is husky and low, and it sends tingles down her spine.

When they kiss, the crowd cheers, and then he’s dragging her to the dance floor and they’re sharing an awkward waltz filled with her stepping on his toes. Five dances later and she’s got the co-owner of her tattoo shop on her arm - Lincoln. He’s smiling for once, and when she passes him off to Octavia she notices the awe in his eyes and the way that both of them are looking around as if they’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.

“Hey,” his voice tickles her ear, and she melts into his arms when he touches her.

“Mister Blake,” she kisses his cheek when his chin lands on her shoulder.

“Misses Blake,” she can feel his smirk.

She hums, and moves one of his hands to her stomach.

“How would you feel about being Daddy Blake?” she asks carefully.

“What?” his hand tightens on her stomach, before he spins her around so they’re face to face. “Clarke, are you…”

She presses her lips together and looks down for a second before nodding silently.

“That’s fantastic! Oh my god, Clarke, how long have you known?”

“I found out this morning,” she smiles in relief, before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her gently.

It happens like this: the night is stunning, and the promise of a family is warm and bright in their minds.

 

****

 

It happens like this: nine months of cravings and adoring family, twenty one hours of agony, and then a bawling baby boy is born.

They call him Augustus. Augustus Jake Blake. And he is all that they’ve ever asked for.

“He’s beautiful,” Abby says, cooing at the sleeping child.

“Isn’t he?” Bellamy smiles from his place at Clarke’s side.

She would smile if she wasn’t so exhausted.

“Can I have him back?” she asks her mother, holding out her arms for her baby.

Her mother hands her back, and Clarke holds him tight. Augustus yawns and settles back against Clarke to sleep, his eyes falling closed. She feels a surge of protectiveness, and realises that this new thing they have - this little boy - is forever. She’s always going to be a mother now, and Bellamy was always going to be a father. They were a family now.

It happens like this: a cluster of people in a small hospital room adoring over a baby whilst the new parents are constantly touching, a reminder that they’ll always be there for their family.

 

****

 

It happens like this: five years later and Augustus is going to school - and Bellamy’s a sobbing mess.

“I can’t believe my baby boy is going off to school already!” he sobs, clinging onto Gus’ hand.

“Da-aad!” Gus whines, tugging at his arm in a futile effort to get his father to let go.

“Bell,” Clarke says gently, prying her sons hand out of his grip. “He’ll be fine. He’s five now, after all,” she sends a wink to her son.

Gus looks at her gratefully.

“Bye mum, bye dad!” he says, giving Clarke a brief hug, then dodging his father's flailing arms and running into the school.

“C’mon Bell. Let’s go home,” she wraps her hand in his and pulls him to their car - their car, just like their home, and their son.

“He’s just so…”

“He’s growing up, Bellamy. He’s not gonna be your little boy forever,” she starts the car.

“But he was only born yesterday,” he whines.

“He was born five years ago,”

“Yeah, but…” he heaves out a sigh.

She smiles, and places one of her hands on one of his. The drive home goes quickly - to be honest, she’s just thankful that her five month pregnant belly can still fit behind the wheel - and when they get there she thrusts a cup of tea into his hands almost as soon as they walk through the door.

It happens like this: the cup of tea soon sits forgotten on the counter, and the clothes shed on the floor say exactly what they’re going to get up to now that their child is away for the day.

 

****

 

It happens like this: Lincoln and Octavia are getting married, and little Julia won’t stop crying.

“Shh, baby,” Clarke tries frantically to hush her daughter, but it’s to no avail. “Where’s Bellamy?”

“I don’t know,” Octavia says, worrying her lipstick.

“I need him,” Julia clings harder to her, and Clarke tries not to wince.

“Yeah, it would be real nice if he was here,” Octavia is clearly trying not to panic. “‘Cause, you know, he’s supposed to be giving me away in less than five minutes,”

“And he’s the only one who’s gonna stop her from screaming the entire way through the ceremony,”

“That would be a little bit of a buzz-kill,” Monroe attempts at a smile, but cringes when Julia lets out a particularly loud wail.

“Yes, Octavia, do tell me what was the highlight of your wedding? Was it how stunning everyone looked, or the screaming child the entire way through it?” Octavia asks sarcastically.

“I’m here! Sorry I’m late -- oh, dear, how long has she been crying?” Bellamy bursts through the door, and almost immediately reaches out for his daughter.

“Since you left the house this morning,” Clarke grumbles, handing Julia over.

Julia quiets down almost immediately when her father holds her, and Clarke tries really hard not to glare at him. (She swears, she does)

“How do you do that?” Monroe asks, looking at Bellamy  in awe.

“It’s so unfair,” Clarke mutters, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out in response to her husband's smirk.

“Yeah, well. You got the first one,” he teases gently, rocking a now almost asleep two year old in his arms.

“ _So_ unfair,” she repeats.

He just smiles at her, then kisses her on her forehead.

“Ready to go?” he asks them, shifting Julia to one arm and offering the other to his sister.

“For about the last seven years,” Octavia murmurs, taking his arm.

“You’ll do great,” Clarke smiles, and then takes her place at the front of the bridal party.

The ceremony goes smoothly, and when the audience sees Julia in Bellamy’s arms it wins everyone over. Gus makes the cutest ringbearer, and they manage to get through the photo’s without any major meltdowns.

It happens like this: they’re now that family, that couple, that has it all - even if they don’t realise it.

 

****

 

It happens like this: Clarke is halfway through giving a woman a tattoo when the world around her slams into black and white.

The tattoo machine falls out of her hands with a thud and all of the air flees her lungs. She blinks hard, then several more times. Looks down. Back up. The world is still in black and white, so she decides that it’s a good time to panic.

“Are you alright?” the woman asks, and the concerned tone in her voice tips Clarke over the edge.

A sob erupts from her throat, and then she’s crumpling and crying so hard she can scarcely breathe. She can hear the woman speaking dimly, and registers her getting up. Moments later a strong pair of hands touch her shoulders, and she hears Lincoln’s soft voice saying,

“Clarke? Clarke, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“Bellamy,” she manages, the force of her sobs wracking her body.

“What about him? Clarke, has something happened? You have to tell me,” he persists, brushing her hair back and gripping her shoulders tightly.

“He’s -- the colours, Lincoln, the colours,”

“Oh… Clarke,” he helps her up and through to the office.

She can’t tell how much time has passed since he left her there, but every second that went by had her heart splintering more. Dimly, she’s aware that he must be taking care of the rest of their appointments, but she can’t bring herself to care. The rest of the day passes in a haze, and when the police show up at their - her - door, it’s just a confirmation of what she already knows.

“Mrs Blake?” the policeman asks, holding his cap in his hands.

She nods mutely, digging her fingernails into her palms.

“I’m very sorry to tell you that Officer Blake was shot while on duty today…”

Clarke looks down, and tunes out the rest of the sentence. She doesn’t need to hear it said out loud.

“Officer Blake was a great addition to the force… I can assure you that he will be missed by all of us,”

“Thank you,” she says, forcing herself to look up.

As the police car drives away, Gus and Julia come bounding up the driveway, Gus looking curiously in the direction of the vanishing car for a second before dropping his sister's hand and running up to her.

“Mom! There’s this new boy at school today, and when I asked him if he wanted to play with us at lunch today I saw the colours! And Mom, he has the most beautiful blue eyes--” he eyes her thoughtfully before continuing, “-- just like yours, Mom! I can’t wait until dad gets home so I can tell him too!”

She has to choke down a crazed laugh, because--

How fitting is it that the day her son gets his colours is the same day she loses hers?

“Actually, sweetie, there’s something I have to tell you and your sister,” she says, taking a deep breath.

They walk inside before she tells them the impossible truth. Before she tells them that their father - her husband; soulmate - is gone. That they’re never going to see him again. And--

It happened like that: thirteen years of colour, ten years of a son, five of a daughter, and one bullet was all it took to end it all.

 

 


End file.
